It was more than a month ago. I was running out of options, I couldn't and I still can't deal with the consequences of a decision that I need to make. After talking with a friend he told me to call my pdoc, which I did and after a visit he decided to send me to the hospital.
My first time was in a military installation and I didn't have to fill any paperwork I was sent straight from ICU to the psych ward. This time a friend took me from the pdoc office to the hospital. After a initial interview I was sent to a waiting room. After a photo was taken a nurse pick me up and took me to the second floor where the different wings are located. The nurse asks me about 100 questions or more about my health. From the time I arrive to the hospital until I was finally at the male wing more than three hours had pass. When I finally arrive to the nurse station I was tired and to make matters worse I saw that the entrance to the wing, a metal double door with little safety glass windows, was crowded with patients. Later I learned that they were waiting for their turn to make a phone call.
The wing was a long hall with rooms at each side each room has two beds and a bathroom, which was close at all times.
The first night was the worse I barely slept and to make things worse I was awaken by a nurse to take blood and urine samples.
There was something I never got over and was the counselor and pdoc interviews. I couldn’t talk about it without. Completely pathetic I haven’t feel so helpless and hopeless in decades. I just couldn’t or can handle it.
Did it help being there? Yes, I was not fit to stay at home or to work for that matter. Being there gave me the time, not to resolve the issue but at least begin to deal with it in a controlled environment. I was there from the afternoon of January 28 until I was released close to 1:00 on the afternoon of February 8.